Miserable Every Time
by BeccaMuse9
Summary: Gilbert was in love Elizaveta. He always had been and always will be. But when she mentions Roderich, he does the worst possible thing he could— talk. Human!AU. Oneshot requested by 'When Eternity Ends'. PruHun/AusHun. Based on the song 'Miserable at Best' by Mayday Parade. Rated T for Gil's mouth.


**((A/N)): OKAY! Here it is! This is a story requested by 'When Eternity Ends'. It's brilliant idea in my opinion and I loved writing it. I'm sorry it took so long, but I haven't given up on my AmeBel story, so I've been writing that one too.**

**Human!AU. PruHun/AusHun. Or Frying Pangle.**

**This story is based on the song 'Miserable at Best' by Mayday Parade.**

**WARNING! Rated T for the pretty foul and sexual things that Gilbert says. I don't think it's that bad, but you have been warned. And yeah, he does say 'fuck' a lot. But... It's Gilbert. He's almost worse than Lovi.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I do not own this music. I didn't even come up with the original idea this time. But the rest is mine.**

* * *

Gilbert swallowed. This was it. Make or break. He bit his lip nervously as he adjusted his tie that was now uncomfortably tight. His crimson eyes searched the crowded, posh room. It didn't take him long to spot her, with the caramel locks cascading down the back of her elaborate green dress.

All the breath seemed to leave his lungs at once. Was this what if felt like to be breathless? Did she…? She left him breathless. Gilbert blinked rapidly, trying to remember why he was here. That's right! Make or break! Laying it all out for her. His heart, whether she chose to accept it or not, was hers. It always had been hers.

**X~X~X**

***one week earlier***

Elizaveta was grinning from ear to ear, sitting cross legged on her bed with him and giggling.

"So I said," Gilbert smiled down at her, using a variety of wild hand gestures to finish his story, " 'What do I look like? A cabbage merchant?!' "

The girl next to him exploded in laughter at his joke, falling into his lap. She clung to his chest, trying to breathe through the debilitating giggles. Gilbert chuckled, stroking her hair as she hiccupped.

"Told ya~" He said in a sing-song voice, "I'm funny as hell!"

Elizaveta sat up, still gripping his shoulders for support, and stuck her tongue out at him, "You're not! I… I'm just easily impressed."

Gilbert smirked, "Uh.. I don't think that was as much an insult to me as it was to your character." He scooted a little closer, wrapping his arms around her causally, "But of course I impress you! The Awesome Me can impress any girl, anytime."

She raised an eyebrow, pushing away from him now that she could breathe again, "Ja. Too bad it can't get you a girlfriend. You're eighteen, Gil! You need one!"

A nervous blush reached his cheeks and he looked away, scratching the back of his head, "Oh… Well.. Ya see.. Maybe I don't want one!"

Leaning back against her headboard, Elizaveta snickered, "Yeah right. Why wouldn't you want a girlfriend?"

Because I love you. I love you, Elizaveta Héderváry. "Ummm… I just like being single! Imma sleep with all the girls in the world. Then maybe, just maybe, I'll get one to tie the knot." Gilbert cursed his own cowardice as he leaned back with her, avoiding her gaze.

She frowned, "I didn't say anything about marriage. Hell! I never want to get married!" Her arms extended up to the ceiling as if trying to reach it, "But if I did… It'd be for love." Her eyes locked onto his suddenly. "You know?"

Gilbert was lost as he nodded silently— watching the amazing woman his childhood friend had turned into. From tomboy to the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. The transformation had nothing to do with his feelings; those had begun the day he'd met her. Or 'him' as he'd thought.

The little boy, just having met a small person like himself that liked mud and had short, messy brown hair, and called themselves 'Eli', had gone home to his mother and asked her if liking boys was okay. He'd been spanked. Repeatedly. But even the red welts on his backside didn't assuage his feelings.

The Prussian returned to the present with a sharp poke in the ribs by the girl he once thought a boy.

"Hey! Hey, Gil! You still there?"

His head snapped over to look at her quickly, "What..? Yeah! Totally." Gilbert grinned at Elizaveta to hide the embarrassment of being caught in a daydream. Again. "… But. Uhh.. What _were _you saying, Liz?"

She rolled her eyes, nudging his shoulder with hers, "Idiot, I knew you weren't listening. I was talking about Roderich."

Gilbert's blood ran cold, his hands balling into fists as he spluttered out the name, "R-Roderich?! You mean prissy-pants?"

Elizaveta laughed, sitting up, "Oh come on. He's not that bad. He asked me out, so he must have some balls."

His mind was reeling. Roderich?! When had she even met him? The aforementioned 'prissy-pants' was not Gilbert's friend. He was not Elizaveta's friend. He was Ludwig's and one of the many reasons why Gilbert wasn't too fond of his brother's friends.

"B-But.." He swallowed, trying to think of something to say.

Elizaveta looked into his eyes, judging his reaction carefully and trying to test the waters. He was flustered but that could just be the mention of Roderich. It could have nothing to with her. Elizaveta nodded, trying to prompt the rest of his sentence. She just needed one sign, one sign that he felt the same way as her.

When they'd been little, Elizaveta had wanted to be a boy. Her mother kept telling her to act like a little girl and be a lady, so Elizaveta had told her that she wanted to be a boy. It seemed perfectly logically to a four year old. If being a girl meant that she had to keep clean and wear dresses and being a boy meant she could get muddy and play with trucks, then the choice was clear.

But apparently that was not an option for her. So instead, Elizaveta shortened her name to 'Eli' and cut all of her hair off with a pair of scissors in the bathroom. Her mother couldn't say a thing, she just told her not to tell people her last name. If anyone knew that Elizaveta Héderváry was a 'boy' it could be detrimental to the family name.

As if Elizaveta wanted people to know she was a Héderváry.

But when she'd matured, suddenly she didn't mind being a girl so much. Especially since Gilbert didn't treat her any differently. Only recently, within the past couple years, had she begun to think that she might _want _him to treat her differently. Like a girl. Like a woman.

"So what do you think, Gil..?" Her emerald eyes bored into his crimson ones and her mouth was dry, "Do you think I should go out with Roderich? My parents would like it. He's a gentleman, he kissed my cheek."

Objections and pleas had been on the tip of his tongue. He was seconds away from spilling everything to her. His love and his devotion, both never ending, were to be hers. Anything to keep her away from a man that wouldn't treat her the way that he could. Anything to keep her from Roderich.

But as she uttered that last sentence, his entire attitude changing. That was all he could see— Roderich's lips on her cheek. A light blush spreading up Elizaveta's face as the 'gentleman' wooed her further. And she did nothing to stop it. Elizaveta didn't want Gilbert, she wanted this man. She was just asking him as a friend for his opinion.

His face turned red with anger as he looked back at her. And he'd sure as hell share his opinion with her. "Ja! I think you should! He's amazing. I bet he's really the best for you. I can't think of someone more deserving of a woman like you!" His voice dripped with venomous sarcasm as he hopped off her bed and glared down at her from his height advantage.

Elizaveta sighed, looking up at him with tired eyes. She was used to this, him flying off the handle like this, but it didn't make it any easier to listen to. "Gil.." she began, but he cut her off. He wasn't even close to done.

Gilbert was seething, "No, Liz! If you just want to get fucked by a cheesy son of a bitch like Roderich," he spat the name out, "then you should just go! Go to him! I'm sure he'll kiss you on the cheek, but that's as good as it'll get. He'll invite you to come over, but that's all the coming you'll ever do!"

"That's enough!" Elizaveta was on her feet now too, glaring at him, "Shut up, Gilbert! I'm _done_ with you! I'm tired of this! Of you yelling at me! You _know_ how I feel about people that yell at me." Her eyes were steely, making Gilbert gulp. Again he was on the brink of begging, but Elizaveta just kept talking. "All I did was ask you a question. There were only two answers you had to choose from. Yes, you should go out with Roderich because you deserve someone that will treat you nicely. Or, no. Don't go out with him because I-I.." The words caught in her throat. She needed to hear it from him. She shouldn't go out with Roderich because there was a much better man right in front of her. But all she could manage to say was, ".. You're my friend, Gil. I-I.. I need to know how you feel."

He turned his back to her, eyes fixed on his shoes as he grumbled out that question, his shoulders hunched in a hostile way, "You want to know how I feel..?"

A small smile flickered across her face as she sighed, "_Yes,_ Gil. I do." Elizaveta walked forward, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder.

Gilbert shrugged it off, walking to the door of her bedroom, "I don't want to be your best friend, Liz." He looked over his shoulder, an unparalleled expression of pain on his face, "I don't even want to be your friend."

She grit her teeth, her emerald eyes boring into his wavering red ones. All of the memories of their past flitted into her mind at once. When they met, mud splattered and laughing. The day they spent every second together, playing hide and seek and swinging from tree to tree, pretending the ground was lava. Giggling together and watching scary movies on Halloween, falling asleep in each other's arms. Gone.

"Maybe we've outgrown each other. I don't need you to be my friend anymore." Her words were hopeful and slightly desperate. Elizaveta couldn't do it anymore; she was in love with her best friend.

But to Gilbert every single one of those words was like a stab to the chest. She didn't even want him as her friend. Who was he to argue? No one. Just the person that had loved her for years, but had never been good enough for her. He nodded, "Ja. Maybe.. Maybe we have. Take care of yourself, Liz."

He turned on his heel, heart sinking with every step he took. Elizaveta's eyes widened as he left, but she said nothing to stop him. She couldn't. It was over.

Gilbert let himself out, slamming the door as he left. Stomping down the familiar steps that led to his love's apartment, his hands balled into fists. He didn't think, didn't stop, and didn't make a noise until he was already in his car and pulling away from the building. Gilbert was on the highway before he knew it, going into automatic. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks, forcing him pull over.

"GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!" His hands slammed into the steering wheel furiously. "GOD FUCKING-!" Gilbert's shoulders slumped over as he let himself break down, "Liz… I-I…" Words. He'd never been good with words. But this time… "I fucked up. I fucked everything up." With just a few words, everything had slipped through his fingers. Elizaveta, just with his grasp, was gone.

**X~X~X**

Gilbert swallowed uneasily, his eyes fixed upon the magnificent vision across the room. Fiery, red hot. Even when she slapped him hard in the face, which she'd done many times, Elizaveta was still the gentlest and kind person he knew. And when she kissed his forehead after he cut it badly, she was passionate.

A light flush covered his cheeks, standing out against his pale skin, as he watched her. Elizaveta laughed, glancing over at one of her friends—a Slav named Natalya. She brushed her long, wavy hair out of her eyes as she giggled and talked animatedly to the normally sullen blonde.

Gilbert could practically hear the strong timber of her voice as he slowly walked along the edges of the room to get closer to her. This was Elizaveta Héderváry. Bright, brilliant, bubbly. This persona was the only one the Hungarian allowed to come out at these parties. And while Elizaveta was all of these things, his Liz was so much more.

She ran a hand through her hair, adjusting her gown uncomfortably. He knew she hated skirts and dresses, but she looked gorgeous. If he'd had been nervous before seeing her, he was speechless now. Her tanned shoulders, neck, collar bone were exposed in the pale green off the shoulders dress. It fit tight across her waist and flowed out beautifully into a full skirt. She had always been perfect in his eyes, but now she was angelic.

Struggling to breathe, Gilbert shuffled along—eyes fixed on his one joy in the world as he made his way up behind her.

**X~X~X**

"Eliza...? Eliza! Are you even listening?!"

The Hungarian snapped out of her thoughts, turning to her friend apologetically. "Sorry, Natasha," she replied sheepishly.

Natalya glared at her, crossing her arms over her small chest. "You have been distracted all night. Why?"

Elizaveta chuckled at the demanding tone in the woman's voice. "Oh come off it. You don't really care. You just want me to pay attention while you gush about Alfred."

A smile twitched at the Slav's lips. "Da... Perhaps. But I do want to know... Right after I tell you about my wonderful, amazing boyfriend."

Elizaveta chuckled, nodding. "Ja. Go ahead. I'm listening now."

Natalya grinned in the way only Elizaveta and her better half could entice out of her. She began talking and as hard as Elizaveta tried not to, she began zoning out again, only hearing about half of what she said.

But it seemed that things were finally turning out well for the Belarusian. After years of struggling with depression and a separate mild mental illness, Natalya had overcome it all. She was on medication now, had moved in with the American named Alfred that she'd been dating for almost a year, and was absolutely glowing.

Elizaveta smiled, trying to be happy for her, but it was difficult. She hated herself for thinking it, but didn't make sense. How did _Natalya_ have a boyfriend when she didn't? Elizaveta had always been more friendly and kind to men, while Natalya had threatened to slit Alfred's throat the first time they had met. And now they were together, happier than she had ever been.

She nodded with a tight smile as she sipped at the drink in her hand and scanned the room, actively tuning out her friend now. Many people she knew were scattered across the room, but a majority of the people she did not recognize. If she focused and really thought about it, Elizaveta might recall a hazy memory of meeting them once or twice. But she didn't care enough to waste the energy. Instead she watched the people that she considered friends.

A Swiss man was standing uncomfortably next to his little sister who was talking animatedly with smallish boy who had an English accent, but always insisted that he was from some place she'd never heard of. The two Italian twins laughed, though ones smile was brighter than the others, as they conversed in rapid Italian, not paying attention to anyone else. In the corner there appeared to be a heated discussion between a short Englishman and a taller Frenchman. Though they were both red in the face, she suspected that it was more due to sexual tension rather than actual anger. Her eyebrows furrowed as she spotted a familiar German. Ludwig, a burly blonde man who was eyeing one of the Italian twins 'discretely' though he couldn't have been more obvious, was Gilbert's slightly younger brother. He and his brother rarely showed up at these events. Mostly Gilbert had dragged him there with him while the albino cheered her up. But now that Gilbert... hated her, it didn't make sense that Ludwig would be here.

"Eliza..." Natalya sighed in defeat, shaking her head, "I know you've stopped listening. Again." When her friend still didn't respond, the annoyed Slav followed her gaze and her scowl disappeared. "Ahhh.. I see what might be more interesting than me. He's cute. And in to you. You should talk to him."

"What?!" Elizaveta finally tore her gaze away from the German that ought not to have been there, "What are you talking about? Ludwig is like a brother to me and I'm pretty sure he feels the exact same way."

Natalya laughed, rare for her, and smacked Elizaveta's shoulder playfully. "Nyet! Not that uncultured… muscular man. The one next to him! Isn't that the one that asked you here?"

"Huh..?" Her emerald eyes turned back to Ludwig, spotting the man that was next to him. Roderich."O-Oh.. Ja.. But I don't think I can.. Do that."

The Slav shook her head, "Eliza, you're always making accuses not to talk to men. You're the same as I was. You helped me give Alfred a chance and it's the best thing I've ever done. Now… I'm going to help you. Talk to him."

"Natasha…" Elizaveta swallowed as Roderich caught her eye. The Austrian smiled, nodding at her before excusing himself from his conversation with Ludwig. Ludwig was left a little red faced, but turned back to glance at the Italian. "Natasha.. I can't. It's.. I'm not like that. I pretend to be this civilized thing, that's the kind of girl that he wants. I'm not that. I'm the kind of girl that would be… perfect for someone else." For a man that doesn't care about manners or skirts. For her best friend. Her former best friend.

"Well, 'someone else' isn't here. _He_ is. And he looks rather nice," Natalya said tartly. "So… Try to be the same."

Elizaveta shifted uncomfortably as Roderich approached her, cutting across the dance floor with a tight smile on his face. She swallowed, clenching her hand into a fist. Her stomach fluttered as the man drew closer. This.. Was this wrong? For so long she'd been oblivious to any male attention. Gilbert would growl, pulling her away quickly as men winked at her or asked her for her number. Elizaveta used to laugh at him, telling him that he nothing to worry about.

He would shake his head and mutter, 'You're so naive, Liz. I love it and hate it.' But now... She finally saw what he'd been talking about. She saw the leers and heard the foul words they whispered behind her back. Elizaveta no longer lived in a bubbly world of obliviousness. But she was also no longer asexual. She could now understand what people meant when they talked about love or lust. Perhaps being a late bloomer in that area was not such a bad thing.

All these thoughts ran through her head as Roderich finally stepped in front of her, bowing properly and kissing her hand gently. "May I have this dance, Miss Héderváry?"

Her heart skipped a beat as she stared down at him for a moment before opening her mouth to answer.

**X~X~X**

A nervous, but hopeful smile spread across Gilbert's lips as he walked forward, his heart pounding in his chest. His fingers were still fiddling with his tie and when he forced them away they went into his hair immediately. He could do this. He had to. Because... Elizaveta was his whole life. If he blew this now...

Gilbert grit his teeth, looking away from her. No! Be a man! Not this sissy that was wrapped around a woman's finger! Pathetic. That was simply pathetic. But as soon as he glanced back up at her, he felt his heart stop. So what if he was pathetic? It was all for her and he wouldn't change it for the world. Pathetically, hopelessly, amazingly in love with the most perfect woman he could ever imagine.

His breath quickened as he took another cautious step forward. Even from the back, she was radiant and astonishingly breathtaking. Warm caramel locks fell past her tanned shoulder blade. From sliver of the side of her face that he could see, Gilbert could tell that she was smiling as her green eyes moved across the room slowly.

He could go on for hours about those sparkling emerald orbs. And he had. Gilbert had waxed poetic about Elizaveta's eyes for so long once that Ludwig had slugged him in the jaw and threatened to call her and tell the Hungarian how he felt if Gilbert didn't. Of course Ludwig would never do such a thing, but the threat had been enough to shut his brother up.

A flush appeared on Gilbert's face again as Elizaveta began talking to Natalya again. He was too far away to hear what she was saying, but the warm honey tone of her voice was enough to make his knees weak. His crimson eyes widened as his throat closed up. SHIT! What was he going to say?! I love you. You're amazing. You're the most stunning, brilliant thing I've ever seen and I would die if I wasn't able to spend every waking moment with you and every sleeping one with you in my arms.

His throat was dry, making it impossible to say even those awful things. Gilbert inched closer, feet away from his heart's desire. He swallowed, trying to speak, gain her attention somehow. But Elizaveta wasn't paying attention to his feeble, whispered words—not that he said any. Her eyes were fixed on another man crossing the room to her. Roderich smiled, bowing as he took Elizaveta's hand.

"May I have this dance, Miss Héderváry?"

Gilbert should have been mad. He should have wanted to kill Roderich or at least maim him. But he didn't. All he could see was her. His past, present, and future all so close and yet slipping through his fingers. His Liz.

Natalya spoke, but he didn't hear her. Roderich spoke, but he didn't hear him. His mind was too full of her, Elizaveta. The seconds dragged into hours as he watched her stiff shoulders—her face a mystery to him with her back turned. The moment would never end as he held his breath waiting for her answer.

No. Say no. Please.. Liz. I know you hate me, but please. Not him. Never him. He's not right. It's me. Please. It's always been me. I love you. I've always loved you.. Just… Turn around. Look at me, not him. Me. Elizaveta, my Liz.. Please. Turn around. No.. You can't do this. Not this way. Not like this. Turn around. It's me. …Turn around.

But she didn't. In a sea of suddenly deafening noise, Gilbert heard his love's voice.

"O-Of course, Mr. Edelstein."

No. Please.. Liz, no.

Gilbert watched in horror as Roderich led Elizaveta onto the dance floor. With every step she took away from him, he felt his heart shatter. And the pain was brand new each time until all that was left was shards of glass where his heart had been—so small and fine that they might have been sand.

When Roderich's hand snaked around her waist and the Hungarian's arm rested on his shoulder, Gilbert turned away. He couldn't do it. He loved her more than anything he could have imagined, but he couldn't watch. Elizaveta was happy and that was all that would ever matter to him, but that still didn't make him happy. In fact, it made him miserable.

Exhaling shakily, Gilbert glided along the floor soundlessly. People seemed to part for him as he walked, not really seeing him even as they moved past him. Slowly he began to fade into the background of not only his best friend's life, but of everything. He closed his eyes, waiting to disappear altogether. But suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong, bruder?"

Gilbert opened his eyes and smiled weakly at Ludwig. His brother frowned at him, squeezing his shoulder lightly as a show of support. "How did it go? Did she say anything?"

The albino opened his mouth, unable to speak again. He shook his head and swallowed, trying to pull himself together enough to fool his brother, "No. No… She didn't. He.. He got there first. And he.." He felt something grind against his glass heart once more, "He's better. He can speak.. He could tell her everything I wanted to.. And she might actually believe him. She wouldn't believe me even if I told her." A broken, heart-wrenching smile appeared on his face, "Gott.. She's so stubborn. She'd think I was messing with her if I told her that I love her." Gilbert laughed.

Wordlessly, Ludwig wrapped his arms around his brother and held him close, stopping the laugh that was closer to a sob. "It'll be okay.."

"Ja.." Gilbert nodded, letting Ludwig hug him as he stared off into space, " 'Course it will." No. No, it wouldn't. It would never be okay again. Not without her warm smile, her musical laugh, her soft touch. Not without the woman that could make him feel like no other. And her eyes..

"I-I.." Gilbert cleared his throat, looking down as he pushed his brother away, "I have to go.. I'll see you later."

Ludwig nodded, unable to do much else as he watched his brother leave. The albino had a bleak aura about him as he slipped through the doors, passing a loud Spanish man who entered at the same time. Gilbert took a deep, shaky breath as he closed his eyes and leaned against the cold brick wall. Gone.

**X~X~X**

"May I have this dance, Miss Héderváry?"

Elizaveta hesitated, trembling lightly with indecision as Roderich's violet eyes bored into hers. Why was this happening? Wrong, it felt so wrong. The man holding her hand like this should not have glasses. His hair was too dark. His eyes were wrong. His voice. His face. His touch. His love. Wrong.

She felt Natalya nudge her and whisper in her ear, "Say yes, Eliza."

The Slav smiled as she pulled away and curtsied politely at Roderich, "Please excuse me, Mr. Edelstein. But I see a certain American that is already in need of my assistance." Natalya nodded and winked at Elizaveta slyly before going to help Alfred, who was foolishly trying to break up the argument between the Englishman and the Frenchman.

Elizaveta's emerald eyes widened as she stared after her friend, pleading with her to come back and not to leave her alone with this man. But Natalya left just the same and the Hungarian was forced to look back down at the Austrian still kneeling in front of her.

"What do you say, Frau?" He asked with a small smile on his lips as he gazed up at her. Roderich was no fool. He knew a magnificent woman when he saw one and he had no intention of letting her go even as he noted her hesitation.

Swallowing a little, Roderich kissed her hand again and whispered, "Gyönyörű vagy."

Her eyes widened and her lips parted in shock. His Hungarian was thick with the Austrian accent, but it was flawlessly pronounced. Beautiful. He named her beautiful in her native tongue. Elizaveta smiled down at him, pulling on his hand lightly to urge him up.

Roderich happily obliged, straightening up but keeping ahold of her hand.

Elizaveta searched his violet eyes curiously, her smile widening. Something changed. She didn't notice what was wrong with him any longer. He was tall. His face was handsome and the way his dark hair framed his face accented his glasses beautifully. Beautiful. In Hungarian.

"O-Of course, Mr. Edelstein."

Roderich nodded, leading her onto the dance floor. She smiled, not finding it uncomfortable as his hand found its way to her waist and she placed her hand on his shoulder. Not uncomfortable. Slowly Roderich set a rhythm as their feet moved together perfectly.

He lead her in a flawless waltz, having been taught to dance just as she'd been, he spun her in a graceful circle and dipped her down in a wondrous arch. Roderich's smile shone down at her, as he held her close. Perfectly. Their bodies moved together perfectly.

But… They did not fit together perfectly.

Elizaveta danced with him, following his every move, but her mind was a million miles away. When she danced with Gilbert… A small, longing smile graced her lips as she remembered. When they danced it was the most awkward, clumsy thing in existence. Gilbert had no rhythm, no beat, and no experience. Not with dancing. They stepped on each other's toes and grew more and more irritated. Eventually their 'dancing' consisted of nothing more than swaying together. She would lay her head on his shoulder and he would hold her hand to his chest, his other arm around her waist. Gilbert would hold her close.

And their bodies fit together perfectly.

Roderich smiled down at her, spinning her slowly, "I'm glad you said yes, liebling."

She looked away, her eyes still far away as she heard another man's voice echoing in her ears.

"_What are you up to, liebling?"_

"_How are you doing, liebling?"_

"_Liebe, what's wrong?"_

Gilbert's voice.

Elizaveta bit her lip and her feet shuffled as her rhythm faltered with his. She closed her eyes, the longing in her heart growing stronger as she finally let it sink in. Gone. Her best friend, her closest confidant, her only love. He would have nothing to do with her. Her sparkling emerald eyes fluttered open, a single tear trailing down her cheek.

In the corner of her vision, Elizaveta caught a flash of white. She stopped her movements, feeling Roderich knock into her and make a quiet noise of confusion. But she didn't heed his attempts to draw her attention again. All she saw was that flash of white. Elizaveta would know Gilbert's hair anywhere.

Gilbert was there. He was.. there. Why would he come there? He hated events where you were forced to dress nicely, make small talk to old rich people, and conduct yourself in a respectable manner. And he especially hated ties. The only reason he had ever come with her to these things was to keep her company. He would hold her hand as she was made to listen to men and women, who barely knew her, evaluate, criticize, and plan out her entire life. He knew that she hated it, and he would whisper comforting words in her ear as he pulled her away from the upsetting people. And they would dance, their bodies moving together awkwardly as they shuffled about the dance floor. But when they danced, it felt right. More right than anything.

The only reason he came to these parties was for her. He had come for her.

"I.. I'm sorry." Elizaveta apologized to Roderich quickly and moved out of his arms, leaving him alone on the dance floor and looking like a child whose ice cream cone had just fallen on the ground. She flitted through the crowd, her skirts flowing behind her as she followed the flash of white hair.

"Gilbert!" She spoke in desperation as the figure disappeared out the door. Elizaveta tried to push past a woman, only to realize that it was Natalya.

"Eliza.." Natalya frowned, putting a hand on her shoulder to stop her from moving away, "Where are you going..? Roderich is looking for you."

Elizaveta glanced behind her quickly. Roderich was indeed several paces behind her, a look of confusion obscuring his gentle features. "I-I know. But.. I saw him!" Her head whipped back around as she craned her neck, looking for Gilbert, "He's here.. I-I.."

Her friend's eyes dark blue eyes gazed at her curiously, "He is. He's right behind you."

Elizaveta bit her bottom lip as it quivered, "Uhh.. J-Ja. Ja. You're right. He is.." She sighed, turning around to look at Roderich. A relieved look passed over his face as he finally caught up with her.

"I thought you'd gone, Frau. I beg your pardon if I have done something to offend you," Roderich said, bowing quickly.

Elizaveta inhaled, not listening to the apologies and excuses that left her lips. Her entire life had been practice for things such as this. The Hungarian could grovel in her sleep. As she pleaded for forgiveness from this man, she thought of another.

Gilbert didn't love her back, so what was the point of thinking of thinking of him? She swallowed, trying to let go of him. Her best friend. Her confidant. Her love. All those memories of their time together, the inside jokes, the comforting touches, the smiles, were gone. She let them go. Their nights and days together, Elizaveta forgot. It was easier than remembering.

She smiled up at Roderich, whom had by now accepted her apology, and took his hand. Elizaveta wiped a tear from her cheek, but her brilliant fake smile never faltered as the Austrian lead her onto the dance floor once more.

No. She could let go, but she could not forget. Not him. Without him, she could live, but it would be no kind of life.

**X~X~X**

Gilbert slid down the brick wall, squatting as he held his head in his hands. A silent cry raked his body as his mind slowly broke down. His heart felt cold and shattered, causing him pain every time he sucked in a breath. Elizaveta. That one word had so much meaning attached to it. It was a woman unlike any other. Liz. A name that meant more to him than he thought a word could.

He grit his teeth and his hands balled into fists. His hand slammed into the wall, a cold numbness filling his torn skin instead of pain. Gilbert's crimson eyes shot open, tears threatening to fall. His surroundings were hazy, blurred by the salt water that clouded his vision.

A tear slid down his cheek and he looked out into a small garden. He was leaning against the side of the large house now, gazing into flowers that were watered with vanity. Gilbert was sitting in a garden that was not cared for out of love, but out of greed. Pride. Envy. He could probably find all seven of the deadly sins amongst the flowers if he tried hard enough.

But Gilbert only observed. The flowers were bright and full of life, smiling at him even through their sad lives. Colors, light, beauty. It all turned to grey ash, floating away on the wind. It was nothing without Elizaveta. As he stared at the warm earth, he saw her caramel hair. The blues and reds were her laugh. The yellows, her smile. The purples, her heart. The greens…

No. He closed his eyes. No.. The green was nothing. Elizaveta's eyes were emerald, out shining even the gems with the same name. The greens of the garden could never compare to that.

His head fell in his hands again as he sighed. Tired. Gilbert was exhausted. It'd been days since he'd slept. His dreams had always been his refuge. His nights were spent with Elizaveta, dancing and laughing, kissing and loving. But now he wasn't a part of his dreams. Roderich was.

In the night Gilbert laid in his bed, eyes wide open to prevent sleep. He couldn't even dream of her anymore. His dreamland was no longer safe. He was only an observer as he watched Roderich touch Elizaveta. It made him sick.

Gilbert sighed, biting his lip as the images of his dreams flooded his mind once more. But after a moment of watching Roderich slip off Elizaveta's dress, the German smiled. Her face, flushed and warm, was happy. She wasn't with him, but she was happy. Her eyes.. They sparkled with a light that he would never be able to bring to them.

He opened his eyes, smiling to himself as he looked out onto the setting sun. Gilbert was miserable, but she was happy. She would live, but he would not. He sighed, resting his head against the brick wall as he thought about love and loss.

His misery for her happiness. Gilbert called that a fair trade.

* * *

**((A/N)): Keep in mind, my dear and treasured readers, that this was a request. I am still taking requests, in fact I love them! So if you have any more ideas for pairings that I at least some what ship, I would be happy to write a story for you! :3**


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